The Audition
I found my composition book nestled genially in between my Maths textbook and an English workbook. Silly me. Well anyway, I'm trying to figure out how exactly I get an LJ cut...bear with me for a second or two.
And I guess I found it.
The Audition
Jacob crinkled his nose as Mike lit a cigarette beside him. He didn't like anyone smoking next to him, though both Mike and his mother begged to differ.
"Must you really smoke all the time?" Jacob enquired, with a sigh. At fifteen years old, he knew the dangers of cigarettes, it wasn't as though the Science textbooks weren't brimmed with the harmful effects of nicotine and such.
"It calms me," Mike replied, with that crooked smile Jacob knew his mother loved. Although, honestly, he himself found nothing particularly nice about Mike, the same person his mother was simply infatuated with.
Jacob let it slide, but that did not stop him from pushing the glass windows open to clear out some of the grey puffs of smoke that seemed to cloud the room over like a newly-formed fog, just much smellier.
"You know," Mike chipped up, as Jacob turned back to his homework scattered across the kitchen table. "You're going to have to get used to that from now on. Though, I thought, with your mother -"
"She doesn't smoke when I'm in the room," Jacob cut in, his voice nearly a growl. Then his head jerked up, in an abrupt realization. "What do you mean by 'I'll have to get used to it'?"
Mike gave a low chuckle, and Jacob held his breath. "I'm going to marry your mother."
Jacob forced a smug smirk, although he didn't feel confident - he was, in fact, downright terrified. "That's what they all say," he responded indifferently. In that split moment, Jacob's head whirled and shot back with its own question:
"What others are there?"
He gulped, because he didn't know. So far, there had been nobody besides Mike who had stuck with his mother this long. And she, in turn, had made it evident that Mike was the most fantastic thing since the Earth was created.
It wasn't that Mike was evil, but Jacob felt rather pained by the fact that his mother was going to willingly replace the position that his dead father had upheld in their household - the one to keep them going, the one that had taught him to cycle, to fly kites, the one who had placed plasters on his scraped knees when he fell down the bicycle.
"I'm the most likely candidate, then." The pure cockiness was more than Jacob could take.
"This is not an audition!" Jacob snarled fiercely.
"Jake?" His mother's genteel tones came flowing down the stairs, and she rushed down just a few minutes after that. "Jake, honey? Is there anything wrong?"
Jacob didn't trust himself to reply, so Mike did it for him, "No, dear. It's nothing. Jacob and I were just talking about..." - he threw Jacob a glance - "Auditions."
The latter gritted his teeth as his mother bustled to the door, worried about being late for the dinner appointment she and Mike were going for. "We'll see you at 11 or so, all right, Jake?"
And she closed the door as Jacob buried his face in his hands. Of course it wasn't an audition...
Mike had already won.
The ending was slightly different in my Composition book because it was verging on prolonging to 4 pages, and my teacher didn't want that.
I'll have another story up and about...soon. I hope. If anyone is reading this at all.
Ciao.
And I guess I found it.
The Audition
Jacob crinkled his nose as Mike lit a cigarette beside him. He didn't like anyone smoking next to him, though both Mike and his mother begged to differ.
"Must you really smoke all the time?" Jacob enquired, with a sigh. At fifteen years old, he knew the dangers of cigarettes, it wasn't as though the Science textbooks weren't brimmed with the harmful effects of nicotine and such.
"It calms me," Mike replied, with that crooked smile Jacob knew his mother loved. Although, honestly, he himself found nothing particularly nice about Mike, the same person his mother was simply infatuated with.
Jacob let it slide, but that did not stop him from pushing the glass windows open to clear out some of the grey puffs of smoke that seemed to cloud the room over like a newly-formed fog, just much smellier.
"You know," Mike chipped up, as Jacob turned back to his homework scattered across the kitchen table. "You're going to have to get used to that from now on. Though, I thought, with your mother -"
"She doesn't smoke when I'm in the room," Jacob cut in, his voice nearly a growl. Then his head jerked up, in an abrupt realization. "What do you mean by 'I'll have to get used to it'?"
Mike gave a low chuckle, and Jacob held his breath. "I'm going to marry your mother."
Jacob forced a smug smirk, although he didn't feel confident - he was, in fact, downright terrified. "That's what they all say," he responded indifferently. In that split moment, Jacob's head whirled and shot back with its own question:
"What others are there?"
He gulped, because he didn't know. So far, there had been nobody besides Mike who had stuck with his mother this long. And she, in turn, had made it evident that Mike was the most fantastic thing since the Earth was created.
It wasn't that Mike was evil, but Jacob felt rather pained by the fact that his mother was going to willingly replace the position that his dead father had upheld in their household - the one to keep them going, the one that had taught him to cycle, to fly kites, the one who had placed plasters on his scraped knees when he fell down the bicycle.
"I'm the most likely candidate, then." The pure cockiness was more than Jacob could take.
"This is not an audition!" Jacob snarled fiercely.
"Jake?" His mother's genteel tones came flowing down the stairs, and she rushed down just a few minutes after that. "Jake, honey? Is there anything wrong?"
Jacob didn't trust himself to reply, so Mike did it for him, "No, dear. It's nothing. Jacob and I were just talking about..." - he threw Jacob a glance - "Auditions."
The latter gritted his teeth as his mother bustled to the door, worried about being late for the dinner appointment she and Mike were going for. "We'll see you at 11 or so, all right, Jake?"
And she closed the door as Jacob buried his face in his hands. Of course it wasn't an audition...
Mike had already won.
The ending was slightly different in my Composition book because it was verging on prolonging to 4 pages, and my teacher didn't want that.
I'll have another story up and about...soon. I hope. If anyone is reading this at all.
Ciao.